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ALCESTIS 



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ALCESTIS 

and Other Poems 



BY 

SARA KING WILEY 

Author of 

" Poems, Lyrical and Dramatic : 

Cromwell, a Play " 



il5etD PorS 

THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 

London: MACMILLAN & CO.. Ltd. 

1905 
All Rights Reserved 



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Copyright, 1905 
The Macmillan Company 



Set up. Printed August, 190s 



THE MASON PRESS 

SYRACUSE : NEW YORK 



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3 DeHtcate t|)t0 Booit 



The author desires to thank the Editors of 
Harpers' Magazine, The Outlook, and 
The Churchman for permission to re- 
print verse first pubHshed in their pages 



CONTENTS 




Alcestis ...... 


Page 
I 


Iphigeneia 


40 


Spring Winds 


48 


Age (Rembrandt's "Philosopher") 


49 


The Clock (i) 


53 


The Clock (ii) 


S3 


Pocahontas in England 


55 


The Mocking Bird .... 


58 


Envoy 


60 



ALCESTIS 

CHARACTERS 

Admetus, King- of Thessaly 

Alcestis, his wife 

The Father of Admetus 

The Mother of Admetus 

The Priest of Apollo 

Heracles 

Death 

The Children of Admetus and Alcestis 

Servant, Steward of the Palace 

Chorus, composed of men and women, the friends 
and servants of Admetus 

The Spirits of the Dead in Hades 



ALCESTIS 



ACT I 

Scene I. Within the palace of Admetus. The first court 
with a fountain and basin in the center, surrounded by the pe- 
ristyle, six Doric columns being visible across the end of 
the court, and three on either side. At the back, in the center, 
is seen the corridor leading through to the peristyle about the 
court of the women's apartments. On the left, at the back, 
between the pillars, is the curtained opening to the master's 
chamber, within which is the couch of Admetus. At the left 
front is a colossal statue of Apollo. At the right front is an 
altar and tripod. About the wall hang silver shields. 

When the scene opens, the entrance to the master's chamber 
is covered by a curtain. The chorus of men and women enter 
through the corridor, singing and dancing in honor of Apollo. 

P.EAN 

Strophe i. 
Hail, O Apollo, that guidest the sun with the coursers 

of light ! 
Hast thou forsaken thine ancient home, and the hills 
and the halls once beloved ? 
I 



Alcestis Act I 



Sending with dreadful falling of shafts upon us dark 

death, the night, 
Say, hath thy beauty and blessing so far and forever 

removed ? 

Anti-strophe i. 
Golden-bright god, thou that bringest the order that 

rulest our day. 
Thou the sweet sound from the smitten lyre, and the 

song from rude speech dost release. 
Forth from the carven stone fair forms, and urns 

from the yielding clay ; 
Healer, we pray thee, restore us from tumult of 

pains unto peace ! 

Epode I. 

Thou didst conquer Marsyas 
By thy mighty sounding strain. 
Force the cruel Death to pass — 
Coming in pain ! 
Loxias, thou lord of light, 
By thy golden arrow's might. 

Give back, O ruler of kings, our king to his kingdom 
again ! 



Act I Alcestis 



Strophe 2. 
Thou that didst love Hyacinthus, and seeing his 

blood, on the grass, 
Purphng the tender new green of spring, and across 

the white Hmbs spreading slow, 
Mourned till the flowers opening blue were marked 

with thy cry "Alas," 
Silently joined thy lamenting all drenched with thy 
tears as they flow. 
Anti-strophe 2. 
Thou the sweet Daphne pursuing with love of her 

swifter than wind. 
Clasping her close as her trembling ceased and her 

softness grew roughened and cold, 
Stripping with kisses the slender leaves around thy 

bright brows to bind. 
Lifted by love she forever the symbol of honor shall 
hold! 
Epode 2. 

Ah, for Asclepius, woe. 
Deep revenged, sore deplored, 
By wrath of Zeus struck low, 
Death conquering lord ! 



Alcestis Act I 



Spouse's love and children's love, 
Both shall here thy pity move ; 

Lover and father and friend art thou — be thy pas- 
sion outpoured ! 

Full cho. 
Across the hills of Pherae gold-shafted falls the 

light, 
But weary are the watchers that told the hours of 

night — 
Sunk ever in deeper sorrow as day reveals again 
Heavier on their master the wasting touch of pain. 

Semi-cho. (women). 
How fares Alcestis ? Tell to me who love her ? 

Semi-cho. (men). 
Fears more than ye, and more than ye she hopes. 

Semi-cho. (women) . 
Anguish drives up her courage, as great wind 
Exalts the flame from embers fallen gray. 

Cho. What intolerable weight 
Shall the minutes bear 
When the hastening fate 
Shall approach us there 



Act I Alcestis 



Golden with hope or dyed black with the hue of 
despair, 

(The curtain before the entrance to the 
master's chamber is drawn, showing Ad- 
metus upon the couch, and Alcestis bend- 
ing over him.) 
Admetus. Is there no hope? 
The black gnlf yawns before my sliding- feet, 
The cold, deep-clutching, hungry hands of death 
Drag me on weakening. Less and less I strive. 
The thickening horror presses down my breath. 

save me, save me, mercy, pitying gods ! 

Alcestis (going down before the altar and kneel- 
ing). He sufifers ! Every breath he draws in pain 
Is sharper than quick swords within my breast. 
Send help, O Zeus, my heart is at thy feet, 
My life is all a prayer that he may live. 
My agony is an enfolding cloud, 

1 draw my breath as one that breathes in fire, 
I move bowed down beneath a grievous load, 
My voice is but to cry and to beseech, 

O spare my husband, spare my best beloved ! 
Is there no sacrifice can move thy mercy ? 



Alcestis Act I 



Cho. Alas, alas, no answering fire is here. 
Ale. (returning to Admetus). 

They say the halcyon bears her sinking mate 
On wings outspread, above the raging waves, 
In power of love prevailing with the sea. 
So let me bear thee sheltered on this breast. 

Cho. As the gathering night 

That thou canst not stay, 
As the waning light 
And the speeding day, 
Thus the departing life that hasteth away. 

As Leander strove 
In his strength to attain 
To his waiting love 
While the mortal pain 

Gathered and overwhelmed till he struggled in vain. 

In the Lethe wave 
The life vanisheth. 
And no love can save 
The foredoomed breath, 

For deeper than seas of the earth are the waters of 
death. 



Act I Alcestis 



Scnii-cho. (men). 
The priest is here, O King. 

(Admetus tries to speak, but fear masters 
him and he hides his face on the breast 
of Alcestis.) 
Semi-cho. (women). 
Too much he fears, he cannot hear his fate. 

(The priest enters and stands alone, all 
drawing away from him in awe. The 
father and mother of Admetus enter.) 
Father (to Admetus). What hope, beloved son? 
Adm. I cannot ask. 

Cho. From Apollo's shrine 

May the prophet bring 
Such a word divine 
As the learned spring, 
As Helicon clear and bright, to our suffering king. 
Ale. Come forth, O priest and speak with me 

apart. (The priest refuses by a sign.) 

Priest. Dreadful the choice my fated word im- 
parts ; 
O ye that love the king, search now your hearts. 
Father. I am no weakling; speak, I love my son. 



Alcestis Act I 

8 

Though I am old, yet is my courage high ; 
I fear no foe, I am a warrior still. 
I shall dare boldly, now, to save thee, boy, 
And if my strength is less, my skill is more. 

Mother. What may thy mother give and what 
endure. 
Whose life was one with thine, whose yearning love 
Brooded about thee first of loves that were. 

Ale. (-who is holding her husband, to the priest). 
What need that he should hear ? Come thou aside, 
Let him not know until we bring him health ? 

(To Admetus.) 
Sweetheart of mine, until we bring thee health ? 

Adm. No, no, I'll hear the word — I am the king. 

Priest. Thus spoke Apollo of the golden lyre, 
The golden arrows and the gold sun-fire, 
Forth from the gloom on rushing wind out-blown : — 
"Who giveth life to thee shall give his own." 

Semi-cho. (men). 
O dreadful word ; who shall abide this test ? 

Semi-cho. (women). 
Not I, alas, although I love my king. 

Father. Were there a fight, I should not hesitate, 



Act I Alcestis 



But here is never a chance or hope for Hfe, 
A certain dark and hideous overthrow. 

Mother. Pheres, my lord, I cannot have thee 

die— 
Father. What evil dost thou prate, thou foolish 
priest ? 
Apollo loves no bloody sacrifice. 
Thus shall his meaning be interpreted : 
What is "our own" ? The power and glory of life. 
I'll hang Apollo's altars with new gold, 
Till, like to beaming orbs perpetual, 
They flash and sparkle on the dazzled eye. 
Or I will fight and win a thousand lives. 
And shackle them to be Apollo's slaves. 

Mother (to Admctus). And I will spend my days 
in sighs and tears. 
Bathing his altars with that piteous rain. 
And only live to plead and pray for thee. 

Father (to Admetus). Look up, my son, for I 

will bring thee health. 
Mother. O I would die for thee, but that thy 
father 
Would then be left in age companionless. 



Alcestis Act I 



Sweet son, believe me, I would die for thee. 

Father. Speak not of such a folly. I shall go 
To storm Apollo's altars for thy health. 
And have the swollen waters of my might, 
Augmented by my love and by my fears, 
Shrunk to so small a current suddenly 
They cannot sweep this saplinsf from my path? 
Why, priest, thou darest not oppose my will. 

Both. Farewell, dear son, we shall return rejoic- 
ing. 
(They hesitate and begin to weep as they go 
forward to embrace him.) 
Mother. Say thou art easier now, beloved son. 
Father. Thy strength is fast returning, is it not ? 
(Admetus shakes his head and hides his 
face.) 
Ale. (to parents). Be not sad, I think he will not 
die. 
(Admetus starts and looks at Alcestis fear- 
fully.) 
Ale. (avoiding her husband's eyes). Go to 
Apollo's altar and there pray, 
I think indeed that he will hear thy prayers. 



Act I Alcestis 

II 

(The father and mother look signiticantly at 
each other, and embrace Alcestis. Ad- 
metiis sinks back half disappointed.) 
Adm. No, no ; there is no hope, there is no hope. 
Father and Mother (embracing Alcestis). More 
than our daughter, be thou ever blessed ! 
We go to pray ; we go to beg for mercy. 
Take heart, Alcestis, we will give much gold. 

Semi-cho. (men). 
Alas, alas, life only pays for life. 

Semi-cho. (zvomen). 
Alas for us, the king will surely die ! 

Father. Get hence, ye peevish maids, your evil 
song 
Troubles the king. Hence, all ye croakers, hence! 
(He drives out chorus. The father and 
■mother go 02it). 
Ale. (ptitting her hand on Adnietus' forehead) . 
Thy brow burns like a brazen cup thrice heated. 
That holds within the throb of boiling liquor. 

(Takes him in her arms). 
Come, lay thee here, and lulled by the low motion, 
Sleep like the robin rocked in summer zephyrs. 



Alcestis Act I 



This breast stirs in the wind of love, soft blowing; 
Forget the world, remember how I love thee. 
And I will sing of love and night and spring. 

Through clustered bloom of orchard trees 

Murmurs the evening breeze, 
And rippling like a shallow stream 

Lulls to a drowsy dream. 
In the pale sky the moon hangs pale, 

The apple petals sail 
And sink in deep grass, gleaming green. 

Where darkening shadows lean. 
The robins twitter, settling slow ; 

The nearing cattle low ; 
Their herders whistle as they come, 

And children scamper home. 
All that went forth to toil and quest 
Gather to love and rest. 
(Admetus sleeps. Alcestis goes down to 
the altar and prays, standing with up- 
lifted arms.) 
Ale. Refuse not, O ye gods, that solemn courage 
Ye breathe on warriors marching into battle. 
For these defend their country, I my husband. 



Act I Alcestis 

13 

That is to me my home, and is my country. 
Lift up my heart above the fear of dying. 
Receive my yielded life, and spare my lover. 

(The flame leaps upon the altar. Alcestis 
hows in silent prayer, and then, rising, 
turns tozuard Admetus.) 
Ale. O, thou more precious than the light of 
heaven, 
Than all the cheerful unknown days to be 
That beckon me to stay, accept my life! 

(After a minute's pause she goes forward 
and draws the curtains, returning to the 
altar, before which she sinks weeping. 
The fire grows dim.) 
Ale. A cold breath strikes upon my happiness 
Like sudden fierce spring winds on early flowers. 
I hear the heavy plashing of his oars 
Who comes to take me to the realms of death. 
Admetus, I have lost thee in the gloom, 
I shall not ever feel thy clasping arms. 
Nor the soft pressure of my children's lips, 
Nor hear their bird-sweet callings at the dawn, 
Nor watch them grow in beauty and in strength, 
Nor guide and guard their tender steps from harm. 



Alcestis Act I 

14 

My heart grows faint, my body chills and fails ; 
Alas, I am too weak. Give courage, Zeus ! 

(The -fire leaps up.) 

A dm. Alcestis ! 

Ale. Beloved voice ! 

Like the sudden song of a bird in deepest night, 
That through the lapsed senses subtly steals. 
Exalting on a flood of ecstasy 
The dulled heart to the ringing silver heaven. 

Adni. Nicias ! Erechtheus ! 

(Enter, hastily, the chorus of servants and 
friends, who draw back the curtain.) 

Adm. Draw back these curtains, let me see the 
sun! 
Bring wine, my heart revives ; why did I fear ? 
Come hither, my Alcestis, come in joy, 
Strength courses through my veins like sap in spring. 

Ale. (to chorus). Give me the wine. (She 
raises the goblet.) Asclepius, to thee 
I pour libation forth in prayer and praise 
Whose love in saving man from death brought pain 
On thee that loved, and death from jealous Zeus; 
For the all-glorious Dorian, thy sire, 



Act I Alcestis 

15 

Slew in revenge the instruments of wrath 
And in the expiation of that deed 
Dwelt in these halls a servant to the king — 
Whom yet as friend surpassingly he loved — 
And in our misery hath pled for us 
And won from Zeus this oracle of life. 
The runner, sinking, passes on the torch 
And in the swifter hand the glory speeds — 
Thy love, Asclepius, gives hope to mine. 

(She pours a libation and goes up to Ad- 
mettis with the goblet.) 

Say thou dost love me, say thou dost, my lord ! 

Adm. No need to say those words, thou knowest 
I do. 
Thy cheek grows pale, Alcestis. 

Ale. It is joy, 

Excess of happiness, as the bright rain 
Fallen after drouth bends down the shining flowers. 

Adm. Thy hand is cold. Rest on this couch a 
space, (He rises.) 

Bring wine; haste, haste! Alcestis, O my wife! 
Look up, thy husband calls, Admetus calls. 

Ale. Be not dismayed, Admetus, grieve thou not, 



Alcestis Act I 

i6 

I shall but sleep awhile, but sleep awhile. 
Yet kiss me, my beloved, it grows dark. 

Adm. Nay, the bright sun still shines upon thee, 
sweet. (In agony he cries:) 

O Zeus, the striving pinions of my prayer, 
Heavy with terror, cannot rise to thee! 
Shall I accept the priceless sacrifice? 
Nay, rather let me die that am foredoomed ! 

Ale. Forbear; for all is done. It is my will 
And Zeus hath sanctioned it. 

Adm. No more, no more ! 

My mind is frozen with the chill of grief. 
And I am dumb save for the bitter cry, 
"Is there no remedy in earth or heaven?" 

Ale. (faintly). Protect our children; love them 
for my sake 
With double love, care for them tenderly. 

(Admetus weeps and cannot answer her.) 
Admetus, yonder cometh one in black, 
A great and formless thing — I fear, I fear ! 

(Controlling her shuddering she tries to 
smile on Admetus.) 
Yet fear not thou for thee it cannot harm. 



Act I Alcestis 

17 

Adm. Alas, sweet wife, alas can I not save thee? 

Ale. The worst is past; the pain will cease so 
soon ; 
Beloved, thou art strong, O hold me close. 
Bend nearer, now I cannot see thine eyes. 

Adm. Alcestis, do not leave me ! 

Ale. The summer evening comes, serene and 
sweet, 
The birds are calling softer, one by one. 
The cool woods loose their perfumes on the air, 
The golden glimmer sinks in greening gloom. 
The stillness deepens and I rest alone. 

Adm. O not alone, canst thou not feel my hand? 

Ale. Farew^ell, farewell, how easy 'tis to die. 



ACT II 



Scene I. Before the palace of Admetus. Enter from the 
palace the funeral train, bearing Alcestis, covered, to the tomb, 
and followed by Admetus, in mourning garments. 



DIRGE 

Semi-chorus of women. 

Come every tender maiden, 
Your purple garments tear, 

Your eyes with teardrops laden, 
Steel-shorn your curling hair. 

Grief is a quenchless shower, 
For she, all praise above. 

Lies like a fallen flower 
Trod by the foot of Love. 

As when the sharp sun, stooping. 
In summer blazes bold. 

Her golden head is drooping, 
A golden marigold. 
i8 



Act II Alcestis 

19 

A woman, unrelying 

On strength of sword or spear, 

Love-panoplied, defying, 
She met the mortal fear. 

To hero hearts compare her, 

For love alike that died. 
Fair in her life, but fairer 

In laying life aside. 

Admetus. Set down your burden, let me see her 
face. (They uncover Alcestis.) 

Thou makest even death thy servitor. 
His icy fingers crown thine excellence, 
O peerless queen. Serenely fair thou liest. 
Thy lily's pallor lovelier than the rose. 
Bring here her children, that have wept all night. 
For if they look on her as now she lies, 
Perhaps in the long motherless years to come 
They shall remember her, how fair she was ! 

(Attendants bring in the children, who cling 
in terror to their father and hide their 
faces when he tries to make them look 
upon Alcestis.) 



Alcestis Act II 

20 

Adm. Alas, they know the mother's heart is still ; 
Take them away, and ye, take up your load. 
To-morrow shall we light the funeral pyre. 

(He goes up the steps of the palace, and they 
lift the body of Alcestis.) 
Adm. O gentle wife, whose days were blessed- 
ness. 
Thou hast first caused me grief in leaving me. 
These palaces that thou hast left forlorn 
Shall be a temple consecrate to thee, 
That was a home — no more forever a home ! 

(They all go out, leaving him alone.) 
Adm. 1 cannot live without her any more ; 
I cannot bear the daily lonely life. 
My kingdom is no more than parcelled earth ; 
Subjects and friends pass by in happiness, 
I cannot rule nor reign nor care for them ; 
And duty is a word for other men. 
I am a coward and take a coward's way. 

(He draws his sword and is about to kill 
himself when the Steward enters.) 
Steward. Great Heracles is come, the son of 
Zeus, 



Act II Alcestis 

21 

Passing from Thebes on mighty conquest bound, 

Who spht the jaws of the Nemean lion, 

And tamed the fearful steeds that belched forth fire, 

Wrestled with Titans monstrous as the clouds 

And cleansed the stables of the Augean herd. 

So great is he our fear is topped with awe ; 

The crowds run not but freeze in wonderment. 

Shall we not bid him hasten on his way 

And leave this house of mourning? 

Adm. Nay, not so. 
She would not have it so whose open hand 
Fulfilled the rites of hospitality. 
Strew flowers, set the tables and bring wine. 

Stezvard. Alas, how can we bear his merriment! 
No weariness can blight that joy of his, 
He will carouse and laugh the whole night through 
Till all the house rings with his roaring songs. 

Adm. Do as I bid thee and forbear thy speech ; 
Thou didst not prate before thy mistress thus, 
Nor pause upon her bidding to confer. 

(After a moment he adds kindly:) 
Good, faithful lad ; I know — it is thy grief. 



Alcestis Act II 



(The Steward goes. Heracles enters and 
Admetus with a great effort conceals his 
sorrow.) 

Herac. All hail, Admetus, king of Thessaly ! 
Adm. (embracing him). Be welcome, O Alcides. 
Glad the day 
That sets thy feet toward thy friend's abode. 

Herac. I heard a sound of weeping as I came; 
I fear my visit breaks upon some grief. 

Adm. At thy approach I lay my grief aside : 
Be welcome, honored guest and dearest friend. 

Herac. I am thy friend, and mark thine altered 
face. 
Cheat me not, dear Admetus, with fair words. 
What sorrow is on thine house? Where are thy 
children ? 
Adm. They play within. I pray thee, come and 

dine. 
Herac. Where is Alcestis? Ah, thou canst not 
speak. 
Thy mantle of concealment falls aside. 
Alas, alas, Alcestis is no more ! 

(Heracles weeps.) 



Act II Alcestis 

23 

Adm. Tears from thine eyes, Alcides, from thine 
eyes, 
That looked on countless dreadful deaths unmoved ! 
(Heracles takes Admctus in his arms.) 

Herac. Weep here, my friend. 

Adm. Alas, I cannot weep ! 

Listen, she died for me, I let her die ; 
I took my life that dared not face my death. 
I say, she died for me, I let her die. 
And now I taste of death each hour I live. 
I have my life, thou sayest, and life is sweet — 
They cry it after me along the ways — 
"Behold the man that let a woman die! 
See where he goes, that loved his wife so well. 
The coward, the coward, that feared and dared not 
die!" 

Herac. Thou hast thy children. 

Adm. Yea, they do accuse me. 

They cry for her that shall not come again. 
And by a thousand lovely, careless ways 
They bring remembrance like the bitter lees 
That I must drink who quaffed the golden wine. 
What's hfe to me, who have no joy of life? 



Alcestis Act II 

24 

My vacant home, my arms that grope in vain ; 
Why, what is left of Hfe that is to come? 
All that remains is ashes of the fire, 
All that remains is scentless dust of flowers, 
All that remains is but a brook run dry — 

(He checks himself suddenly.) 

But thou art weary, friend, come in and rest, 

I see thy heavy leaning on thy staff. 

Thou hast a little eased my heart with speech. 

Herac. Where is thy sweetness now, Alcestis, 
where? 
She cast a radiance round her like the moon. 
Gentling the rough dark world with silver rays. 

Adm. I cannot bear her praise : I pray thee, 
cease, 
I knew not how I dwelt within her love 
Sheltered from rude alarms and horrid hate 
In all-sufficing blissful certitude 
Till I was thrust forth naked and bereft 
Across the barren world a wanderer. 

Herac. Admetus, I have loved thee heartily 
And now in this thy grief am knit to thee 
And shaken with thy pangs. What love may do 



Act II Alcestis 

25 

That would I do or suffer. Words are weak, 
But deeds are scarcer and more eloquent. 
I'll say, "Despair not yet." Lean on my heart; 
Here is a power that many have sought to quell — 
This little throbbing force that shall not cease 
However pain and fear shall thrust at it 
Till when my father shall command an end, 
And through the serving of mine enemy 
I wrest my godhead from reluctant heaven. 
Surely an end shall be to all our grief. 
Bear strongly then ; survive in confidence. 
■ Death may be less a thing than we can know ; 
His chiefest terror lies in our poor hearts — 
Shrinking from the unknown as children do 
That people the unfriendly dark with fears. 

Adm. And thou at least wouldst live. 
Come in and dine. 

Herac. Farewell, Admetus, I must forth again. 
Give me thy promise, as a friend to friend, 
Thou wilt await me here till my return. 

Adm. Where wilt thou go, that art so weary 
now? 



Alcestis Act II 

26 

Herac. I go to serve one that my heart loves 
more 
Than rest or food. My heart sustains my feet. 
I must go forth and labor till the end. 



ACT III 

Scene I. The abode of the dead. Barren cliffs rising from 
a waste of sand. An intense and pallid glare lights the scene. 
Miserable creatures of grey and starved countenance hurry to 
and fro, gazing in one another's faces with curious hatred. 

Clio. O for escape from the unpitying light! 
O for a rest for the unflagging feet ! 
O let us sleep, and for the time forget ! 

Herac. Say, who are ye, tormented thus, that 
roam? 

Cho. We are those creatures tortured with 
regret ; 
The gentle deed undone, the word unsaid, 
The hand of help withheld, the love ungiven, 
Float like mirage above the quivering air. 
Shining impalpable and swiftly gone — 
The joy of giving now forever lost. 
We are the cowards and the renegades, 
The misers and the cold and dry of heart ; 
Not hastily nor of a single hour 
Wrought we our doom, but through neglectful years, 
Piled like the sifting grains of arid sand. 

27 



Alcestis Act III 

28 

Ourselves secure we cared not for earth's pain, 

We aided not the wretched, nor consoled. 

We let the vicious wander unredeemed. 

We shrugged and sauntered on our easeful way, 

And now we see, in clear, intensest light, 

The barren semblance of the life we lived, 

And each upon the other looks to find 

The meanness and the shames himself doth bear. 

(Darkness falls upon the scene, then the 
clouds lift until in a deep gloom is seen 
the second hell. Here lie creatures silent 
and motionless, in postures of agony. 
Though very dim, it may he perceived 
that their eyes are fixed and opened 
zvide.) 
Herac. Say, who are ye, that lie immovable ? 
Can ye not speak, nor sigh, nor stir, nor see? 

(His own voice alone is heard. It's echoes 
die away.) 
The awful stillness hangs upon my breath — 
I must go forth ! 

(The voice of Death without.) 
Death. O Hero, these lie sunk in their remorse. 



Act III Alcestis 

29 

Each heart, weighed into stillness, knows itself, 

And of itself alone contemplative 

Broods chained in deep unswerving agony. 

Hcrac. (approaching them). Drawn brows and 
writhen lips immovable, 
Faces of frozen anguish, and blank eyes, 
Wide stretched, that stare unseeing. 

Death. They look within. 
These spirits turned high powers to deeds of ill, 
Tipped with the poison of a festered heart 
Their gifts, like arrows, fell among mankind. 
This now they think on ; each looks on his own. 
Deep in the blackness of his evil sunk 
In pain that cannot seek relief from pain. 

Herac. O horror — let me forth — Where are the 
blest ? 

(The scene darkens and grows light, dis- 
playing aisles of a great forest. The 
branches meet overhead, the sky above 
them being of the clear and shining pal- 
lor of a summer evening when the sun 
has just fallen belozv the horizon. Be- 
neath the trees it is neither dark nor 



Alcestis Act III 

30 

bright, but a green twilight shines 
through the leaves. Pillowed upon the 
deep green moss lie many white-robed 
forms easily disposed in sleep. Alcestis 
lies in the foreground. There is a 
sound of light wind, and the branches 
stir and sway. A drowsing bird calls 
softly.) 

Death. Hero, there lie the good in peaceful 
sleep. 
In yonder deep green shade, serene and fair, 
They rest enfolded in beatitude, 
In dreamless sweetness of accomplished toil, 
Lapped around with all the love they bore on earth. 

Herac. (advancing to Alcestis). How deep she 
sleeps, and, smiling in her sleep. 
Moves now a Httle, and her easeful breath 
Comes gently in soft comfort to and fro. 
Never had one on earth such pure repose. 
Almost I do repent me of my task. 

I feel a presence near me in the air, 
I feel and cannot see, but know it near, 



Act III Alcestis 

31 

By the cold sweat that gathers over me, 
The trembling and the horror of my flesh, 
I know thee. Death. 

Death. Thou canst not see me till thine hour has 
come. 

(Heracles shakes himself, lion-like.) 
Herac. I am that Heracles, the son of light. 
Decay and foulness and devouring wrong 
Cannot oppose me, nor can suffering stay, 
Nor swarming evil sap my patience. 
I am unresting as the falling streams, 
And patient as the hills beneath the snow. 
And tireless as the quick and soaring flames, 
For in my veins there flows the blood of God, 

(Death becomes visible.) 
Death. Behold me, Heracles. What wouldst 

thou have ? 
Herac. Give back Alcestis to her mourning 

house. 
Death. Not so ; who cometh here cannot return. 
Herac. I shall compel thee. 
Death. Pause, O Heracles ; 



Alcestis Act III 

32 

Then shalt thou die, and yet be saved aHve, 
Tasting thy death decreed a second time. 

Herac. Thus let it be ; Alcides serves his friend. 
(Heracles wrestles with Death, and is seized 
in an agony, tearing at himself. He 
wrestles the more violently as he suf- 
fers.) 
Herac. I burn ! I burn ! — yield — O thou cruel 
tyrant ! 
My flesh is unconsumed — O let me die ! 
Light, light the funeral pyre, and let me perish ! 
Think not to conquer in mine agony, 
I shall prevail before thine hour is come, 
And though I die yet shall Alcestis live ! 
The bleeding heart and terror-darkened eyes 
Of the tormented race of man in me 
Rouse energies that like the streams of spring 
Swelling in flood across the sunken fields 
Upbear me on great tides invincible. 

Death, (conquered). Thou hast prevailed. Al- 
cides, take thy prize. 
(Heracles falls spent into the arms of Death, 
who sustains him.) 



Act III Alcestis 

33 

Herac. Merciful Death, O give me thy repose; 
Let me now rest. 

Death. Arouse thee, Hero, much is yet to do ; 
The world has need of thee ; Admetus waits. 

Herac. O let me rest with thee, benignant spirit 

Death. Now thou hast known me kinder is thy 
speech ; 
Not yet, however, is the appointed time; 
Thou must go forth and serve mankind, Alcides. 

Herac. (rousing himself). Yea, I shall go. Yet 
tell me, ere I leave thee. 
If those that roam without may ever pause, 
And those in stark, unmoving pain be free ? 
Yea, even if these blest sleepers shall awake? 

Death. Look in thy hero-heart, O Heracles, 
There hast thou found forever hope, for love 
Drives thee still forth to labor for the world. 
Love works in death in ways diverse from life. 
Yet ever works on to an end unseen. 



ACT IV 

Scene I. In the great garden of Admetus. Beyond are 
rolling meadows to the east. The light is that of a spring 
morning before the dawn. As the scene proceeds the dawn 
breaks and the sun rises. 

Admetus (alone). 

O changing sky, 
Thou canst not bring my dawn ; 

Returning day. 
My Hght forever withdrawn. 

Awakening year, 
Bloom visits not my spring, 

My joy of hfe 
Not ever wakening. 

Can ye not bide away or fade before ye blow, ye 

flowers ? 
Can ye not weep forever, O silver April showers ? 
And thou, O fair May moon, do not awake, 
For at thy lover's light this heart shall break. 
34 



Act IV Alcestis 

35 

Sweet-throated choir of spring, let all your music 

fail; 
And thou come not, come not O nightingale — 
Love's voice — come not ; be mute, O nightingale ; 
For Love's own sake, come not, O nightingale. 
Surely the spring shall cease, the days grow drear, 
I cannot bear the spring — she is not here. 

Return Alcestis! 

How canst thou leave me here thus desolate ? 

My cry goes forth to the unpitying air — 

I know that I must live till death alone. 

Heart of my heart, since love did make us one. 

Live on in me, O spirit of my love. 

Thy nobler soul shall purify my soul. 

And my low life ascend to meet thy life. 

Come, then, a second bridal of the soul. 

And let the mystic bond be consecrate. 

So shall I live in thee forevermore. 

Receive this life, O love, that turns to thee. 

The dim, dark heaven waits solicitous, 
The distant cock-crows ring upon the air, 
And stillness flows, heavily flooding in. 



Alcestis Act IV 

36 

The grey-green leaves in shadowy mysteries 
Float up and settle. A bird calls sleepily, 
And now another, and now a stirring throng. 

(Enter Heracles, supporting Alcestis, who 
is completely veiled in white.) 

I see a form against the shining sky, 
Look ! slowly coming from the brightening east 
Walks Heracles, with lingering steps of woe, 
Returning sadly to this sorrowing home. 

(As Heracles and Alcestis draw nearer, Ad- 
metus calls to Heracles.) 

Adm. Whom hast thou there, that hangs upon 
thine arm 
As hangs the white-flowered vine against the oak. 
Fluttering in every breeze, and like to fall ? 

Herac. One that must pass from my support 
to thine. 

Adm. Take her within and bid them care for her. 
Since thou hast brought her she shall nothing lack. 

Herac. I bring her unto thee, and thee alone. 

Adm. What dost thou mean, O friend? 

Herac. Receive a bride. 



Act IV Alcestis 

37 

Adm. Thou art my friend; thy thought is hid 
from me, 
But even in this I trust thee, as I know 
So deep the perfect fountain of thy heart. 
There cannot flow therefrom polluted tides. 
Such word to me had been another's death. 
This lady shall be honored for thy sake, 
But even for thee I cannot take a bride — 
Her place that is no more cannot be filled. 
Nor shall I mock my sacred memories. 

Herac. (commandingly). Take yet her hand, and 
love her for my sake. 

Adm. Give me thy hand, O stranger; for his 
sake 
That brought thee, thou art precious in my eyes. 

(Admetus takes the hand of Alcestis.) 
Adm. This hand ! This hand ! 
A touch of fire that flashes to my heart. 
I know each fold, each yieldine of this flesh ; 
Each motion is more eloquent than speech ; 
The pressure of thy fingers passes through me. 

Herac. Admetus, I must go. Farewell, dear 
friend. 



Alcestis Act IV 

38 

(He approaches them, hut they do not move 
nor see him.) 

In mystic, perfect loneliness they stand, 
Cut off from men farther than space can move. 
Through many blissful years hallow the earth, 
That mankind turn from wrong by seeing love. 
O happy pair, bless by thy happiness ! 

(He goes slowly out.) 

Adm. I dare not lift thy veil, lest I awake, 
O sweetest dream, yet must I see thy face. 

(He lifts her veil as the sun rises.) 
Alcestis ! 

Ale. Admetus ! My husband ! 
Adm. Beloved. (Pause.) Alcestis! 
Ale. (Pause.) Admetus! 

Adm. Come heart to heari and let throb answer 
throb, 
We live together and together love. 

(He takes Alcestis in his arms.) 

Ale. We live together and together love. 
Adm. Fair morning, clear across the shining 
green, 



Act IV Alcestis 

39 

Meseems the sun was never so gold before, 
Nor the Hght air so dehcate and sweet, 
Nor all the birds so gay. 

Ale. O blessed morn that brings me unto thee. 
Not thee alone, but all the world I love. 

Adiii. The golden cup of joy is overrun. 
Become a living fountain for the world. 

Both. O hasten, all ye people, and rejoice. 
For love is proven conqueror of death. 

(The chorus enters.) 

Chorus. 
What Love shall do who may foretell? 
Stricken he seems, and suddenly displays 
New ardors irresistible to quell 
That the astonished fates compel 

Unto his praise. 
The night that gathers on our ways 
Is terrible no more, nor dread therof 

Shadows the coming days ; 
For like a torch among us Love has passed 
And on beyond the appalling dark at last 
Far beaconing behold the face of Love. 



IPHIGENEIA 

[The scene is at Aulis, before the tent of Agamemnon.] 
Iphigeneia : 

Chorus : Consisting of Greek warriors and the maidens who 
have accompanied Iphigeneia from Mycenae. 

Chorus of Men. 

When fierce through Hellas Menelaus ran forth 
Calling the Greeks, swift to our arms we sprang, 
Impatient to avenge him of his wrongs 
And bound by solemn oath of Tyndareus. 
Behold at Aulis hath our haste and rage 
Been wasted impotent, till Chalcas bids 
We offer Agamemnon's daughter here 
A sacrifice to ruling Artemis, 
That we may win a favorable breeze 
To waft our galleys through the azure sea. 
Long hath the king withstood our dread demand, 
Perforce hath yielded and the maid is come 
Lured from her quiet home by a pretense, 
A summoning to be Achilles' bride — 
She, who must bleed on the appointed stone. 

40 



Iphigeneia 
41 

Ye bright tressed girls whose cheeks are wan with 

fear, 
No harm is purposed you, but she shall die. 

Chorus of Maidens. 
We mourn for her we serve and dearly love. 
Alas, how blithe has been our journey here 
That ends in tears. We sported through the fields 
Where hoary olives in the breeze and sun 
Flashed into silver, or we rested cool 
In the deep shade of solemn cypresses 
That pace the pale green hills in dark stoled march. 
White ran the road to urge us on our way 
With scarlet poppies beckoning in the heat. 
Iphigeneia, ah, alas for thee ! 
Lured in thine innocence to dreadful death, 
Caught in the coil by Helen's beauty spun 
That like a floating web ensnares and binds 
How many, many more that yet shall fall. 

Men. 

We shall avenge her, blood for blood 
When Paris pays for love with life 
And over the tall towers of Troy 



Iphigeneia 

42 

Her last sun flames on fiercer fires 
Forth leaping under pitch black smoke. 
When on the purple couches' pride 
The gilded beams crash sundering ; 
When Hector's sword no more shall gleam, 
And white haired Priam deeper sleeps, 
And shield and helm are red with gore 
And hung with gems and plundered gold. 

Maidens. 
O Helen, are thy slumbers sweet? 
Do not the ghosts untimely dead 
Gather about thy perfumed feet 
And cry above thy golden head ? 
Dost thou not wake in chilly dread 
While loud thy startled pulses beat ? 

O Helen, are thy slumbers light ? 
Is not the darkness tongued with flame. 
The thunder groaning through the night 
For thy god-fated sin and shame, 
The miseries on Troy that came 
Therefrom to purchase thy deHght? 

Men. 
Let be ! Iphigeneia from the tent 



Iphigeneia 

43 

Comes forth with brow serene and quiet face 
Gazing as one that looks on distant lands. 

Iphigeneia. 

Across the fields I see the morning light 

Dawn clearly after rain. 

The scented meadows shining silver white, 

I shall not see again ! 

I hear the spring winds calling me to come, 

Calling me home, 

happy home I shall not see again. 

1 hear the drowsy birds stirring to sing. 
Low twittering, 

Till, hark ! a single strain soars out above. 

Often I dreamed a golden dream in vain, 

That song, the song of love ; 

Love was its prophecy, 

Love with its peace and its pain, 

Love, the unknown drawing nearer to me. 

Maidens. 
She smiles in visions of her nuptial day 
Whereof we sang and whiled away the hours 
Stepping beside the slowly swaying car. 



Iphigeneia 

44 

Iphigeneia. 
Then as I roused in the clamor of song 
Rapture of birds as the sun shone in heaven, 
Jubilant, strong, 

Spread like the dawn, visions slumber had given ; 
I should go forth to the sound of gay song. 
Circled by light-footed dancers that throng. 
Teasing the horses they guide. 
Garlands of flowers above and beneath, 
Trumpets to ring on the echoing air, 
Laughter to ripple and rise — 
I should go forth all adorned and called fair, 
Happiest bride. 

Not in dark pageantry drawn to my death. 
Crowned and hymned for the sacrifice. 

Men. 
Let not Achilles hear her as she speaks. 
He cried aloud to us she should not die, 
And drew his sword until we drove him back, 
With stones upcast, a roaring multitude. 

Iphigeneia. 
Then, my beloved, glorious shall come 



Iphigeneia 
45 

To lead me home, 

And lifted o'er the sill with spells and charms, 

And sugar plums in showers, 

And warning if he slips, 

How shall I lean within his clasping arms 

And feel his kisses fall like light blown flow^ers 

Soft on my face, till on my lips his lips 

Cling and are still. 

And in the silence for all speech too sweet. 

When shining eyes with shining tear drops fill 

Shall our two hearts strike answer beat for beat. 

Alas for me, fate hath not these to give. 

How shall I die that never yet did live ? 

Maidens. 
Our tears are all with thine, most hapless maid, 
Born in thy beauty to a queen's estate 
Imperilled by how dark a destiny. 

Iphigeneia. 
Nor shall I lie soft on a loving breast 
Cherished by those that weep. 
Sinking into my rest 
Till peacefully 



Iphigeneia 

46 

Goes out the ebbing life, 
For death comes often gently as a sleep, 
But, ah, the smoking altar waits for me, 
The tightening cords, the horror of the knife ! 

Maidens. 
She shrinks away and beats upon her breast ! 

Men. 
Erect she stands and wipes away her tears 
And looks upon us with unflinching eyes. 

Maidens. 
Yea, now she smiles and slowly lifts her head. 

Full chorus. 
Some hope hath come to her, or happiness. 
She beckons unto us to hear her word. 
Draw near and listen and forbear thy speech. 
Surely a god hath whispered unto her. 

Iphigeneia. 
Even I this day the oracle have heard ; 
In answer to my cry, 
There came a solemn call 
From where the Pythoness in horrid strife 



Iphigeneia 
47 

Hung in the fume and then the sudden word : 

"Unfit to Hve, unfit to die, 

He shall not live that dares not die." 

And hath it come to me that comes to all — 

Is this my dream that now the high gods give 

In fashion new ? — 

The hope in every woman's heart that lies ? 

Then shall I make the eternal great reply : 

"In power of love I shall not die but live 

If so my life shall give the world new life." 

Goddess, receive a willing sacrifice. 

Joyful, O Greeks, I give my life for you ! 



SPRING WINDS 

The wind of March has the call of the sea 
(O wings of the wind, do they never tire?) 

It hurries the cloud and it harries the tree 
With the flutter and roar of a leaping fire. 

Cold and wild and eager to flee, 

Is the lure to loss or to liberty, 

Light of the eyes and my Heart's Desire? 

The April wind has the scent of the rain 
(O wings of the wind, do they never tire?) 

Softly it whispers and hushes again. 
Warm as the kiss of the pale sun fire — 

Promise of bloom and the green of new grain; 

Is peace but the drowsy surcease of pain, 
Light of the eyes and my Heart's Desire ? 

The wind of May tosses the petals white 
(O wings of the wind, do they never tire?) 

White as the love-moon silvering the night, 
Pure as the dew and the heart's new fire. 

Balmy blessing and strong sweet might, 

Liberty, peace and the sure delight. 

Light of the eyes and my Heart's Desire ? 
48 



AGE 

(Rembrandt's "Philosopher.") 

The air is heavy in this vaulted room, 
The empty corridors are damp with mold, 
I shall not seek again their tortuous gloom 
Nor dare the outer cold. 

Sunk in my chair, content where thought may lead 
I muse on One that comes but comes so late, 
And gazing at the book I cannot read 
I wait, and still I wait. 

Dim through the dusty casement falls the light 
And on the floor a ruddy sunbeam glows : 
Yet even there, to cage the yearning sight, 
The barring lattice shows. 

Touching the first steps of the soaring stair 
A gleam glides where the spirals outward lean, 
And like a signal torch it wanders there 
Into the dark unseen. 
49 



Age 

so 

where, O where ? for I am tired and bHnd, 
Obeying heavily a heavy heart ; 

1 am not joyous to remain behind 

Nor zealous to depart. 

Meseems I have but faint hopes any more, 
My spirit quests no gay imaginings. 
Desire has dwindled so since first I wore 
Those versi-colored wings. 

The slowly narrowing cell that holds this mind 
Pain-filled and dark with solitude intense, 
Will it crush out what spark I still can find, 
Or drive it living hence ? 

So far away began my pilgrimage 
I have forgot how far, for time no more 
Befriends me — all at enmity with age 
Shoves to the gaping door. 

And ever as the sunbeams wane and wane. 
And glimmering the hueless dusk draws near, 
Night throws my bleak face from the blackened pane, 
And calls the mortal fear. 



Age 

51 

The heavy chronicle of vanished days 
Seems Hke a dust-smeared scroll of little worth, 
Like smoke dissolved in air is human praise, 
Like earth returned to earth. 

In rapt communion with the solemn sky 
And stars like trembling dewdrops crystalline 
I searched the rhythmic laws that underlie 
Their influence benign. 

I sought the fount of youth through deserts wide, 
And wrought in earth to charm the golden pelf ; 
Alas, I followed no diviner guide 
Than the imperious self. 

All memories of triumph and all powers — 
How lost they are, how colorless and cold ! 
Only the loves of unforgotten hours 

Their gathered sweetness hold : 

The love wherewith I strove to serve and save, 
To find and follow hidden harmonies ; 
The gold that I rejoiced in as I gave 
True and untarnished lies. 



Age 

52 

The glorious love and lore and strength I took 
From hearts beside my heart, or great ones gone, 
Beams like the light irradiate from this book 
And I am not alone 

Companioned by that fellowship of eld 
That in sincerity paused not to dread, 
By love inspired and by love upheld 
And ever comforted. 

Subtle of foot steals on the night of time, 
Shrouding the forms and phantasies that were ; 
O Love, lead on the way that I must climb — 
Light on the lowest stair ! 



THE CLOCK 

I 

Like to a miser weighing with slow skill 

Recorded patiently, his precious store; 

Or a magician sunk in perilous lore 
And pondering the sum of mortal ill ; 
Or leech whose potions drop by drop distil 

To hush the heavy pain ; or like the score 

Of debtors set upon the tavern door 
That lengthens as their parching throats they fill. 
Thy never-seen commodity men spend 

As it were valueless or could not cease. 
For me, I use thee as a journeying friend, 

And when from thy discourse I have release 
Then shall my lonely wandering find an end 

In meeting loves or sink in senseless peace. 

II 

Helpless I stand and beckon silently 

To all that crowd and hurry past my face. 
Do they not know they run a fixed race 
53 



The Clock 

54 

And never shall return as they go by ? 
Why use they not my moments ere they fly 

To hallow and adorn this dwelling place ? 

So should the essence of exceeding grace 
Abide in perfume though the makers die. 
They should not load their free limbs chain by chain 
Trembling as criminals condemned to pain, 

But like the lordly vessel steering home 

Freighted with star-imprisoning jewels come, 
And my last call should be a glad refrain 
That soars to meet a final splendid strain. 



POCAHONTAS IN ENGLAND 

The larks are in the azure air, 

TrilHng a-wing, 

And cuckoos in a deep-embowered lair, 

Their dull and plaintive beat 

Waver ingly repeat. 

While bloomy may scents every breeze with spring! 

But she, with listless mien, 

Through lanes of drooping green. 

By rose-hung lodge and ivied hedge goes wandering. 

The sunset gold is in the little rill 

That by the square church-tower slips, glassy still, 

A mirror for the dark and writhen yew ; 

Far, sweetly chiming bells the curfew ring, 

The red-roofed village sleeps below the hill. 

And off against the blue 

A ruined abbey rears a gray-arched nave 

By fronded columns tall, 

And through the shadowed cloisters, cool and grave, 

A group of shouting school-boys play at ball. 

She sees, not with her eyes, but with her heart, 

The stalking braves, the peaked wigwams brown, 

The pine fire's ruddy smoke ; and slow tears start 

55 
LOFC. 



Pocahontas in England 

56 

And on her unmoved Indian face slip down. 

Her spirit seeks the wild, wide woods, 

Sweet with the scents of fall, 

Where whirring partridge chase their broods, 

And in the gold and scarlet solitudes 

The chipmunks call. 

Hark, the great deer is crashing his fierce way ! 

The milk-white birches bend, the maples break, 

Till tossing tops tell where his pathway lies. 

And lo, beside the lilied lake. 

Where the blue herons wade and quick kingfishers 

play. 
She starts the feeding doe, that halts to shake 
A dripping head, and stamp the pool to spray 
In wondering surprise, 
Gazing at her the while with splendid, fearless eyes. 

Wakening she looks upon the peaceful scene ; 
The level walks and gardens seem a part 
With the brocade that sweeps the daisied green, 
The white ruff cutting at her bronzy chin. 
The pressure of her bodice, and within 
The sick and mordant anguish at her heart. 



Pocahontas in England 

57 

She lays a laurel leaf in one hot palm, 

The smooth, cool touch a symbol of sweet calm, 

And vaguely still she searches in her mind : 

"Once for a paleface risked I life and limb; 

He was the bound, and I the fearless free. 

Does this one know how greater far for him 

The gift I gave, when that I left my kind 

And lost my liberty ? 

Ah, would that I might sleep at last at home!" 

The gravel cracks beneath a hastening tread ; 

Her sad eyes light, she lifts the sunken head, 

Swiftly she turns to see her husband come. 

Clasped in his arms and looking in his face. 

With head bent back for kisses falling fast. 

She has forgot the present, lost the past; 

Nor would she move 

Ever from out that instant's dear embrace, 

Nor wish to rove, 

For unto Love there is no time or place. 

Nor anything but Love. 



THE MOCKING BIRD 

The long-drawn echo of the solemn sea 

Wakes in the wind-thrilled pines and wakes my 

heart 
With the green plumes astir, to shudder and bend 
To vague emotion sadder than that sound ; 
Till, wandering apart, 
I hear a mournful murmur ceaselessly, 
And from the deeps profound 
Comes the unbroken cry : 
"Wherefore, and to what end ?" 
A warbling flung into the quiet air 
Shivers the sullen stillness. Like bright spray 
The crystal trills drip through the branches there. 
High poised against the beaming sapphire sky. 
His throbbing throat lifted in ecstasy, 
A mocking bird repeats his varying roundelay. 
This is the very chant of brooks that run, 
A gift the freely happy-hearted give; 
"O, sing in the sun, 
Fear not but sing, 
This is the call of the spring, 

58 



The Mocking Bird 
59 

Awake and live !" 

The airy whistle shrills and turns and calls, 

Ripples in fairy laughter silver thin, 

In soft and cooing notes answers and falls. 

Pauses to taste an instant's hush and then begin. 



ENVOY 

Lightly I cast my wildflowers on the sea 
While the slow surges swelling turn and break 
And sinking suck them down to depths unknown, 
Unnoted specks in the tremendous gulf. 
Some waif, afloat at chance of wind and wave, 
May Time that old and crabbed mariner 
With cold slow fingers thrust uncertainly 
Draw out, and weave within the coronal 
That binds Athene's bright immortal brows. 



60 



THE SIN OF DAVID 

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